d him what he wanted there, at that
time of night; and Jim could not say he wanted coffee, and so there was
nothing for him to do but go. There was nowhere for him to go but home,
and he sneaked off in the dark.

When he came in sight of the cabin he could not tell whether he would
rather have his mother waiting for him with a whipping and some supper, or
get to bed somehow with neither. He climbed softly over the back fence and
crept up to the back door, but it was fast; then he crept round to the
front door, and that was fast, too. There was no light in the house, and
it was perfectly still.

All of a sudden it struck him that he could sleep in the stable-loft, and
he thought what a fool he was not to have thought of it before. The notion
brightened him up so that he got the gourd that hung beside the well-curb
and took it out to the stable with him; for now he remembered that the cow
would be there, unless she was in somebody's garden-patch or corn-field.

He noticed as he walked down towards the stable that the freshet had come
up over the flat, and just before the door he had to wade. But he was in
his bare feet and he did not care; if he thought anything, he thought that
his mother would not come out to milk till the water went down, and he
would be safe till then from the whipping he must take, sooner or later,
for playing hooky.

Sure enough, the old cow was in the stable, and she gave Jim Leonard a
snort of welcome and then lowed anxiously. He fumbled through the dark to
her side, and began to milk her. She had been milked only a few hours
before, and so he got only a gourdful from her. But it was all strippings,
and rich as cream, and it was smoking warm. It seemed to Jim Leonard that
it went down to his very toes when he poured it into his throat, and it
made him feel so good that he did not know what to do.

There really was not anything for him to do but to climb up into the loft
by the ladder in the corner of the stable, and lie down on the old last
year's fodder. The rich, warm milk made Jim Leonard awfully sleepy, and he
dropped off almost as soon as his head touched the corn-stalks. The last
thing he remembered was the hoarse roar of the freshet outside, and that
was a lulling music in his ears.

The next thing he knew, and he hardly knew that, was a soft, jolting,
sinking motion, first to one side and then to another; then he seemed
to be going down, down, straight down, and then to be drifting of